


Never Would Have Met You

by truestarofthenorth



Series: Disney Ducks [8]
Category: Disney - All Media Types, Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics), DuckTales (Cartoon 1987), The Three Caballeros (1944)
Genre: Donald Duck Needs a Hug, First Kiss, First Meetings, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Military Inaccuracies, Multi, Polyamory, Post-War, Single Parents, Wartime Romance, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 11:45:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19062004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truestarofthenorth/pseuds/truestarofthenorth
Summary: The letter he held made his hands tremble. He couldn't even process the words, let alone understand what was happening.No, that wasn't true. He knew what was happening. It didn't happen to his cousins, it didn't happen to his uncles, or even his father. Donald was alone in this, full of panic, unadulterated fear.





	Never Would Have Met You

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO I HOPE YOU LIKE WWII INACCURACIES CAUSE I'VE GOT PLENTY. 
> 
> I also didn't make this a romance, I almost made it just, them meeting and being friends but, I couldn't help myself! The idea of José smooching Donald in their only bit of free time. Plus, in uniforms? Yes please! 
> 
> Also, both José and Panchito are pilots, I think that's obvious but I just wanted to be sure. 
> 
> The idea of Donald being drafted, while being a single father? Is heartbreaking, I know. I'd also love to add that Della is his older sister in this. The boys are 7-8, and Donald is 21. I don't mention Della though, Donald solely refers to the boys as his sons and never brings up his sister. 
> 
> God I hope this is good, please please please let it be good! Let me know of any mistakes, I'll be quick to jump on them. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated! xoxo

The letter he held made his hands tremble. He couldn't even process the words, let alone understand what was happening.

 

No, that wasn't true. He knew what was happening. It didn't happen to his cousins, it didn't happen to his uncles, or even his father. Donald was alone in this, full of panic, unadulterated _fear_ _._

 

It was early in the afternoon. The boys were still at school, and his closest cousins, Gladstone and Fethry, were in the kitchen, chatting about world news. 

 

Donald had been by their side when the mailman came by, holding a life-changing piece of paper, bound in a government issued envelope. Donald's cheerful smile dropped immediately, taking the letter with a soft 'thank you'.

 

Now he was standing in the hall, staring at the letter, like the words would change. _Please, please change_ _._

 

No anger bubbled up, no words, no tears. Nothing. Donald couldn't feel anything, once the fear faded.

 

"Don? What's takin'ya?" Gladstone called from the kitchen. He padded out, one hand on his hip, the other holding a glass of whiskey.

 

"Donald?" Gladstone said again, looking over his shoulder. He dropped the whiskey, staring at the paper.

 

"Oh. Oh, no, no..." He murmured. He took the letter, folded it up real nicely, and placed it on the foyer table. He walked Donald carefully through the hall, avoiding the glass, and sat him down in the living room.

 

"Gladstone? Is everything okay?" Fethry asked, peaking out of the kitchen.

 

"....yeah, yeah, everything's...." He couldn't find the words. "I'll be right back, okay, cuz?" Gladstone said softly, squeezing Donald's shoulder half-heartedly.

 

Gladstone disappeared into the kitchen, and just moments later, Donald heard a wail, followed by sobbing. _That would be Fethry,_ he thought.

 

Once he regained his thoughts, he stood up, and walked into the kitchen.

 

"I....I hate to ask this..." Donald breathed out, sinking his face into his hands. "But...I need you to watch the boys."

 

"They'll be in safe hands, Donny.." Gladstone said.

 

That was all that mattered.

 

-

 

Telling his parents felt the hardest, but...they seemed certain Donald would be fine, he was strong and brave and his temper proved to be useful often.

 

Donald _wasn't_ brave, he wasn't strong. He was a liability, he was a burden, he was useless in this field.

 

But, it didn't matter, his mother said, they were sure he wouldn't be sent out into the front lines.

 

-

 

'Dear mom, remember how you said I wouldn't be sent out into the front lines?' Donald wrote, with shakey hands. He was currently in a ditch in the ground, trying his best to hide from the gunfire directly above him. 'I'm here, and if I don't make it', he paused, scribbling it out. 'When I get home, I really expect a pie, just for me.'

 

He stuffed the unfinished letter in his pocket, and started crawling towards the farthest exit, where he immediately knocked heads with someone else. His heart stopped for a minute, hand going for his pistol.

 

"Don't shoot, don't shoot!" The person suddenly said. "We're on the same side!"

 

Donald pushed his helmet up and met syrupy-brown eyes. His eyes caught sight of the uniform his new companion was wearing.

 

_201st Fighter Squadron_ _._

 

He was air support, and Donald hadn't seen any aircraft go by in hours.

 

"Hiding?" The other asked.

 

"Sorta. You....?"

 

"My plane was shot down." He said, sticking his hand out. His other hand was grasping his side, obviously hiding an injury. "Panchito Pistoles, at your service!"

 

"Donald Duck."

 

-

 

Saying it was rough getting out of that situation was an understatement. It was nearly impossible. Yet, here they were, laughing while they were laying in cots, absolutely miserable.

 

"I didn't think we'd make that out alive! We make a good team, Donald!" His bright companion said. In the short time they've known each other, Donald has learned Panchito is the brightest, bravest, cockiest (no pun intended) guy he'd ever met.

 

In turn, Panchito learned Donald had a very short fuse, but was brave and spunky. What he lacked in size and strength, he made up in courage and agility.

 

And it wouldn't be long before they found the next member of their small group.

 

-

 

When Donald found him, he was unconscious. He was partly covered by brush, and had Donald not found him then, he was sure the other wouldn't have made it. He carried him back to base, despite the long, grueling trek.

 

"You're a very lucky duck." The nurse told Donald. "You found him just in time." She said.

 

"He's been MIA for months." Another nurse said. "Goodness, he's in _such_ bad shape."

 

Donald felt pity and worry for his fellow soldier. He certainly didn't deserve this, none of them did.

 

But all the same, any free time Donald had, he spent by the parrot's bedside. He wrote letters to his parents, letters to his nephews, in case.....well, that was plan B.

 

"Where am I...?"

 

Donald blinked a few times, looking to his side. The other was finally awake, eyes darting wildly. He sat up quickly, in a panic.

 

"Hey, hey, it's okay, everything's okay." Donald said. "You're safe."

 

He looked up, eyes wide. He looked _terrified_ _._

 

"Where am I?"

 

"Infirmary, southern base." Donald said.

 

"Who are you?"

 

"Donald Duck."

 

The parrot nodded. "An American."

 

"How'd you guess?" Donald smiled a little.

 

"I'm José Carioca." He sat up.

 

"Nice to meet ya, Joe."

 

-

 

Donald was always considered unlucky. So that was probably why _he_ was the one up against a building, eyes wide, with a gun pointed at his face.

 

_Stay calm, stay calm,_ _stay calm_ _._

 

"Please." Donald said. "I have kids."

 

The gun lowered slightly, but before anything could happen, the soldier in front of him collapsed, and José was standing behind him. Donald took a moment to assess the situation. José definitely didn't kill him, but he had knocked him out with the end of his rifle.

 

"Thought I'd return the favor, you know?" José smiled. "Come on, let's go."

 

"So, you have kids?" José asked.

 

"Three. They're....my pride and joy." Donald said. He pulled out a small picture that he kept in his pocket. "They keep me going."

 

José smiled tenderly. "Ah, they look just like you. So, does that mean you are....?"

 

"Huh? Oh! Married, no. No, I'm....raising them myself."

 

"That takes a lot of strength, and bravery." José smiled. "May I ask a personal question?"

 

"Shoot."

 

"Men or women? Or both?"

 

Donald's face flushed. "Oh, both..."

 

"So, you and the rooster?"

 

"Oh! N-no, no, he's just my friend. Why?"

 

José shrugged. "I'm sure it's unethical to have a relationship during the war. But it would seem we have time, hm?"

 

Before Donald could even think, his handsome, charming friend had his hands on Donald's face, his peak pressed against the others.

 

'Holy shit....'

 

-

 

This time, Donald was sure he wouldn't make it out of this alive. Everything was _so_ dark, so cold. It was 1945, sometime in August. They were sure the war would end soon.

 

And now, he was trapped under bits of an aircraft.

 

He leaned back, trying his damnedest not to panic or cry. He tried so hard not to end up in a situation _just_ like this, where he was completely helpless.

 

And now he'd die here, without seeing his boys again, his family, and his friends.

 

"Phooey..."

 

-

 

"Is he gonna be okay?"

 

"Yes, he'll be fine. Nothing is broken, from what we can see. I'm sure he'll be happy to hear the war is finally over."

 

Donald's eyes opened slowly. Everything hurt, and he felt like he couldn't move.

 

"Ah, he's waking up." The feminine voice from before said. "I'll leave you three alone."

 

As soon as he was able to move again, Donald sat up shakily. 

 

"What did she say?" 

 

José sighed in relief, taking Donald's hand into his own. He pressed several kisses to Donald's palm, then his wrist. 

 

"The war is over, it's over querido." José told him.

 

Donald took a very sharp breath. "You're....you're joking."

 

"I promise we're telling the truth." Panchito tells him, smiling so bright he almost can't handle it.

 

"I-I'm taking you both home with me." Donald says before he can stop himself.

 

Panchito breaks out in laughter, and José chuckles, shaking his head.

 

"Donald, I'd follow you to the end of the earth." José says.

 

-

 

And he does, they do. The relief on his family's face when he _finally_ gets home is the best feeling he's ever felt. They hold him and cry and tell him he's never allowed to go to war again.

 

And Donald thinks he agrees.

 

"Sorry mom." He says, as she rubs her cheek against his. The boys are clinging to his legs, all teary-eyed and blubbering.

 

José and Panchito smile from the back, watching it all unfold.

 

"Who are your friends?" His dad asks.

 

"My heroes." Donald says.

 

-

 

Later that night, the boys all cram themselves into Donald's bed, and several nights after that. And when the boys decide to go back to their own room, José and Panchito take their places.

 

And while Donald is squished between them, he can only think....

 

"If I never went to war, I never woulda met you two."

 

"I suppose that's one good thing to come out of it." José says, kissing up Donald's neck.

 

"The only good thing." Panchito adds, running his fingers through Donald's feathers.

 

And Donald agrees.


End file.
